


Content

by psychicdreamsandangelwings



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: But it's okay really, Daryl is sort of a sap, M/M, Rick gets stabbed, Violence I guess, fluff of sorts, through the eye, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 18:18:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2477891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychicdreamsandangelwings/pseuds/psychicdreamsandangelwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl Dixon doesn't cry, except for those times he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Content

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've recently become obsessed with Rickyl, it's pretty bad. And when I develop obsessions, this ensues. I blame the season 5 premiere for toying with my feels. Enjoy this incredibly cliche bit of work.
> 
> Set during Season 4 while their still at the prison, contains no spoilers.

_It was supposed to be a routine run, couple of hours tops, but of course nothing ever goes as planned. Daryl wanted to go alone, but Rick had refused. Suddenly, now that their relationship had transformed from as-close-as-brothers to sleeping-with-each-other-every-night, Rick was wary to let the archer go anywhere alone, like the former sheriff could do anything to help him. After a short argument, Daryl somewhat reluctantly agreed. Though he would have liked the alone time, Daryl had to admit that alone time with Rick was just as satisfying as real alone time._

_The run, which really was supposed to be quick, took a drastic turn once the two of them come across a surprise walker herd. They were walking together and Daryl was laughing, a real honest to God laugh. It’d been so long since anyone had been able to get a genuine laugh out of him, but Rick made him feel ways he couldn't explain. He made him... happy, bubbly even, like he was some blushing girl on a date with her longtime crush. It was completely foreign to him, and because of it Daryl's guard was down. They stumbled across a pack of at least ten walkers gnawing on the flesh of a human girl, who couldn't have been much older than Beth. The girl was dead, if the sight of her entrails scattered across her stomach were anything to go by._

_Daryl let loose three bolts right after another, successfully killing his targets. He watched Rick take out another two walkers with his knife before Daryl drew his bow once more, letting a ray of arrows fly. Rick, who was more worried about Daryl’s safety than anything else, let his guard down for a fraction of a second and a stray walker was on him, tearing a big chunk of flesh where his shoulder met his neck. The scream that permeated through the air was what tore at Daryl’s heart, a scream he knew he would never get out of his head. In no time Daryl shot off three arrows in succession, killing the stray walker before he could go after Rick again._

_Daryl was on his knees in a second, hands desperately clutching at Rick's torso. God damn it Daryl had been through hell, and maybe his tough guy exterior kept most people at a safe distance, but he deserved to be loved, deserved to have his happiness. He had only just found it in the farmer, what was he going to do without him, what were Carl and Judith going to do without him, what was anyone going to do without him? Rick was a vital part of their prison group. He may have been trying this whole "I'm gonna stick to my vegetables and let other people take charge" act, but without him, the prison would be in ruins. He was important, to everyone including Daryl. “No,” Daryl said, throat closing up as tears threatened to spill out. Daryl Dixon didn't cry. He didn't show emotion. He wasn't going to fall apart now, he couldn't afford to._

_“Dar-” Rick tried to choke out, blood gurgling out of his mouth. At this point every breath took a lot of effort, and Daryl knew it wouldn't be long before he was gone. “Protect them,” he mumbled, words barely distinguishable. “Judith, Car-” he coughed and desperately clutched at Daryl. “I love you.” Daryl could tell it was a struggle for him to get the words out, but he had said them. Rick had told him he loved him, and Daryl couldn't help but feel the same, no matter how hard he tried to deny it. Daryl had built a shield around himself, a shield he hardly let anyone penetrate, but Rick had broken through. Rick had taken Daryl's shit in the beginning of their relationship, took things slow, and hadn't let Daryl pull away from him until he had finally admitted what he had always known to be true. His feelings for Rick had grown over the years, and though he had tried to deny them, he couldn't right now. Not with the man he loved dying right in front of him._

_“I love you,” he said, gripping the handle of his knife so tight his knuckles turned right. “I’ll make good on my promise, I’ll protect your kids. I will make sure they survive, Rick, and I will never let Judith forget who her Daddy was. A man who risked his life over and over again to protect the people he cared about, a man that I had the pleasure of loving.”_

_Rick smiled, the fucker was dying and he had the strength to smile. “Thank you,” Rick lifted a hand and brushed Daryl's dirty hair aside, a gesture that Daryl wasn't even ashamed to admit he leaned into. “I’m sorry.” Daryl nodded, pressing a hesitant kiss against the palm of his hand._

_“It’s okay,” Rick said. "Daryl, it's okay." Daryl swallowed hard around the lump in his throat, still fighting back tears. Daryl Dixon didn't cry, he was a rock. Daryl then lifted his knife and plunged it through Rick’s eye socket, killing the man instantly. The group had a rule, a rule that everyone agreed on. If there was no other choice, if there was absolutely no other choice, they would always prevent one of their own from turning. Daryl had agreed on it, figured that one of these days he was going to have to make good on his promise, he just didn't think it was going to hurt this bad._

_Rick's body went still and Daryl's hands shook as he dropped the knife. "Rick," he breathed, closing the man's eyes. If Daryl looked just at his face, he could almost trick himself into believing he was just sleeping. But he knew he wasn't. Rick was dead, and it was all his fault. Suddenly Daryl couldn't hold it in anymore, couldn't keep back the emotions that were threatening to break free, and he broke down sobbing, clutching Rick's body to his chest._

_This was his fault. Daryl was the expert tracker, it was his job to always be on alert and he had let his guard down, resulting in Rick's death. He had made Carl and Judith orphans. He had made the prison gang lose their leader, even if he spent more time farming than leading these days. He had caused the death of one of the greatest men he had ever met, a man he had had the pleasure of loving. He had killed his best friend… his partner… his boyfriend. Daryl was supposed to protect the group, that was his job, he was the muscle that protected everyone, and he had failed. He had failed. Rick was dead, Daryl had killed him, he-_

Daryl sits up straight in bed, mouth open in a silent scream. He doesn’t make a sound, he knows better than that. Crying means weakness and weakness isn’t something Daryl does well. Sweat pours off of him in droves and it takes him a few seconds to figure out why he’s suddenly awake. Someone had been calling out his name. Daryl's heart pounds hard in his chest, his eyes are wide open in terror, as his mind replays the images in his dream over and over again. He knows this dream will haunt him for weeks now, it doesn’t matter if it’s a dream or not. He knows he won’t be forgetting it anytime soon.

Daryl’s had nightmares ever since he was a kid, and no matter what he does he can’t get them to go away. He's sure that’s a telltale sign that something is fucked up in his brain. Every time he closes his eyes memories of his childhood and biggest fear plague him in vivid nightmares. At one time, his biggest fear had been his father. Now it seems his fear has escalated to losing Rick.

“You’re okay,” Daryl hears, the familiar drawl he loves so much speaking quietly into his ear. "It's alright, I've got you." The voice is still groggy with sleep but he knows he’d recognize it anywhere.

Daryl feels soft hands rest themselves on his face, slowly trying to calm him with soothing movements. He doesn't flinch away from the rough hands like he usually would. He recognizes these hands, the hands that have shown him nothing but kindness, and they're always a welcome touch, no matter what the situation may be.

“Rick,” Daryl breathed a sigh of relief, pulling the man hard against his chest. He let out a silent sob as he buried his face against his neck, needing to reassure himself that Rick was really there, that it wasn't just his mind playing horrible tricks on him. Rick was alive, he was okay, and he was with Daryl. “I thought, you’re not, I don’t-” Daryl lost control of himself, pressing his face against Rick's neck, a neck that was not ravaged with walker bites like it had been in his dream. He tried to fight back his emotions, reminding himself once again that Daryl Dixon didn't cry, but he was slowly losing that battle with himself.

“You’re okay,” Rick said, gently wiping at Daryl's tears. Rick was completely aware of what to do when Daryl had a nightmare, he'd seen enough of them in the time that they'd been together. If it was about his father, Rick would back off until Daryl was ready to come to him. That was still a touchy subject for the farmer's hunter and the outcome always depended on what Daryl was feeling comfortable with at the time. Obviously with a nightmare like the one he had had tonight Daryl needed the reassurance that Rick was okay, and that was exactly what he was going to give him.

“You were bitten and I had to- I made your kids orphans, Rick. I killed you, I had to  _kill_  you." Daryl was near hysterics once again, trying to gain what little composure he had left but failing miserably. Daryl had never been good with loss, not when it came to people he cared about, and even the thought of losing Rick could easily send him in a downward spiral. He allowed Rick to wrap his arms around him, strong hands pulling his body down next to him until they were laying comfortably side by side.

“You’re alright,” Rick soothed, stroking his hair gently in an attempt to calm him down. Daryl always acted tough, and the moments when he let his guard down, no matter what the circumstances were, were always hard on him. “I’m alright, we’re fine, Daryl, everything is fine.” Daryl clung desperately to Rick, not even remotely ashamed if he seemed like a pussy. Rick had quickly become a necessity for Daryl, and the very thought of losing something as important to him, as important to the group, as Rick was, broke his heart. Daryl wasn't a selfish man, he’d starve before he let anyone in his group go hungry; it was okay for him to be a little selfish right now.

Daryl laid next to Rick, head resting atop his chest, as his heartbeat slowly went back to normal. Soon enough his breath was even and Daryl was all but calm. It was a while before either one of them spoke, just basking in the comfort they provide for each other. “I thought I lost you,” Daryl admitted finally. "You were gone and it was all my fault." He pulled away slightly from Rick, no longer desperately clinging to his chest.

“But you didn't,” Rick said, curling his slim fingers around Daryl's hip bone. His thumb slipped under his shirt so it was resting on bare skin and Rick slowly ran the pad of his thumb in soothing circles. Their bodies were no longer touching but the two of them still lay close to each other. “I’m right here and I’m alive, you’re alive, we’re both alive. Everything is okay.”

Daryl nodded and closed his eyes, finally content and calm enough to let himself relax. Rick was lying next to him, safe and alive, and right now, that was all that mattered to Daryl.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I really did call Daryl bubbly, and no, I have no regrets. So Daryl may be a little OOC and that ending was shit, give me a break. I've never written Walking Dead anything.
> 
> I was actually really, really, really tempted to skip the whole dream part of this, which is surprising on account of I love Rick and I absolutely hate character death. Anyways, hope you enjoyed.


End file.
